


so what if it's us?

by CHAN4SUNG



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, First Meetings, I'm Bad At Tagging, Lee Minho | Lee Know Is Bad at Feelings, M/M, Short One Shot, the line "you wanna kiss me so bad" is in here, the theatre kid chan au nobody asked for, yeah the title is from dear evan hansen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-14 04:08:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29039895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CHAN4SUNG/pseuds/CHAN4SUNG
Summary: Here's the thing about high school: everyone hates the theatre kids. Or, that's what Lee Minho thinks it should be like.
Relationships: Bang Chan/Lee Minho | Lee Know, Lee Felix/Seo Changbin, it's only mentioned in like one sentence though rip
Comments: 3
Kudos: 66
Collections: october☆sparkle: minchan ficfest





	so what if it's us?

**Author's Note:**

> written for october sparkle/minchan fic fest! the prompt used was "one-sided rivals to lovers minchan where minho is way too competitive and chan just thinks he has the prettiest eyes in the whole campus"

The first thing Minho noticed about the school performing arts theatre was that it was nothing like Broadway. Sure, he’s been here every morning for devotions—hell, he’s performed here multiple times with the rest of the dance crew. But still, he had his expectations for today’s rehearsal. Maybe it was a bit too much of a reach to expect that much from the drama club. Maybe he shouldn’t have expected their performance to be grand, to be the level of Dear Evan Hansen (a.k.a the only theatre thing he can tolerate).

He voiced out his concerns—which he thought were _valid_ , mind you—only to be met with Hyunjin rolling his eyes, and Felix smiling while shaking his head.

“Cut them some slack,” Felix said, “it’s the first rehearsal. They literally _just_ had the first script reading today.”

Hyunjin agreed with Felix, adding, “It’s like if they expect us to get all the moves right on the first shot. I bet you their performance on the actual day will be much better than this.”

And maybe they were right. Maybe Minho was putting too much pressure onto the drama club to be perfect right from the get go. He couldn’t help it, though.

There was just something about that club that made him hate them. His first reasoning was that they had the theatre all to themselves, despite being composed of a measly ten people, while Minho and the dance crew (consisting of thirty people) were stuck with the run-down dance studio on the fourth floor of the school, which didn’t even have proper air conditioning. Call him whiny, but after he walks up two flights of stairs at the end of a tiring school day, he should be able to expect at least a nice wave of cold air. His second reasoning was… well, they were just _unlikeable_. They were all nobodies socially, they never did anything remarkable—there was no reason for this club to _exist_. And yet it did.

Minho was sure that the drama club hated the dance crew just as much. _Especially_ the club captain. There was something about the glint in his eyes that made Minho think he wanted the whole theatre to himself; something about the way he greeted the dance crew that made Minho think he didn’t want them to be there. But of course, Minho didn’t care. Why would he care about what the boy with the bright smile thought?

(As if on cue, Felix said, “You’re staring again.” Minho brushed him off.)

The first thing Chan noticed about the dance crew was the lack of unity. Or perhaps a concerning kind of loyalty. They sat in different groups, each of them immersed in their own conversations, and it seemed like that was just about the only social interaction that existed within the crew. It was nothing like the drama club, where all the members had such a tight-knit bond that it became difficult imagining each other being in social circles without the other members. Chan brushed it off, though, thinking that there was no possible way for thirty people to all share a common bond.

Still, there was something about one of the boys in the audience that stood out to him as he rehearsed his lines.

He was surrounded by friends, but he still looked lonely.

“Alright!” Mr Park— _Jaehyung_ , Chan corrected himself in his mind—called out from the audience, right in front of the stage. “I want to see what you’ve got for the first transition, the one for _Princess and the Frog_ and _Sleeping Beauty_. Come on, hit me.” He put his hands up and motioned them like he was beckoning the students to come over and actually hit him. Chan smiled at how enthusiastic he was. They were lucky to have a teacher in charge who was actually involved and cared about the students’ ideas. Somewhere in the theatre, though, Minho was rolling his eyes again, at yet another annoying theatre kid.

They showed Mr Jaehyung what they had planned out for the first acting scene: a conversation between Dr Facilier and Maleficent, as they argued about their plans to take down the princesses once and for all, and get revenge for what had happened to them in the original film plots. It featured Jisung as a hot-headed Maleficent planning out a spell, being constantly interrupted by the annoying, cocky Dr Facilier, played by Chan. It was a humorous scene that displayed a chemistry nobody other than Jisung would’ve thought of. Come on, Maleficent calling Dr Facilier a _“three-inch fool”_? Raunchy _and_ sophisticated.

Mr Jaehyung (who Minho had already classified as “blonde beanpole with the nerdiest glasses in the world”) clapped his hands at the end of the performance, then began his critiques. “Jisung, your performance was perfect, _almost_. I just need more hatred in your voice, got that? As for Chan, your movements aren’t exaggerated enough. Give your performance a little more overconfidence.”

Jisung and Chan nodded, then retreated off the stage, taking their seats at the front row. Chan was busy gulping down his water bottle (who knew performing made someone so thirsty? Minho sure didn’t know that) when Jisung nudged him on the shoulder.

“Did you notice that guy at the back?” Jisung asked, and Chan shook his head, swallowing the last gulp of water. “Been staring at us the whole time like he wants to kill us. Sitting with Felix. Don’t turn around.”

Chan obediently did not turn around, but if he did, he would’ve seen Minho scrutinising Seungmin and Jeongin’s performance of Cruella De Vil and Ursula. Minho just couldn’t see the appeal of letting students write their own scripts. Wouldn’t that lead to a worse end product? Lower quality? Why didn’t they just do what the dance club did, and let a teacher handle all the technical aspects? Was Mr Jaehyung just _that_ lazy?

Or perhaps, did he actually care about his students? Minho could feel his heart break in envy.

Lunch break came sooner than everyone expected it to. Maybe it was the exhaustion that made them lose track of time, but it felt like it came when they were at the peak of their rehearsal. Still, that didn’t stop any of the students from practically running towards the door, engrossed in their own conversations, leaving their teachers behind in the theatre to worry about setting up the stage for the afternoon half of rehearsal. Before Minho walks out the door, trailing behind Felix who’s saying something about McDonald’s, he sees Mr Jaehyung say something to Mr Kang, which makes the dance instructor chuckle.

‘Weird.’ Minho thought. ‘They like each other?’

In his daze, Minho didn’t realise the theatre kids busily chatting, obviously not watching where they were going. Maybe it was on Minho. Maybe it was on Chan. Whoever’s fault it was, Chan had bumped straight into Minho’s shoulder, and dropped his script, which Minho’s foot ended up on. And while Chan was busy apologising for bumping into Minho, saying “Sorry” over and over that Minho would’ve been convinced Chan was a robot which only had that programmed in his system, Minho decided one thing: that Bang Chan, captain of the theatre club, was bad at everything.

(Hyunjin and Felix had to deal with Minho’s rambling about how “theatre kids are a waste of the school’s budget.”)

Chan wouldn’t stop nudging Jisung.

They were in the hallways in front of the theatre, sitting on the floor and eating burgers that Jisung so generously bought for them. To offer his thanks, Chan was annoying the hell out of Jisung. In Chan’s defence, it was Jisung’s fault for choosing to sit next to him.

Jisung finally groaned, throwing his head back like the drama king he is, and looked Chan dead in the eyes after about twenty seconds of groaning. “ _WHAT_ do you _WANT_.”

“Tell me the name of that boy who bumped into me.”

“Okay, first of all,” Jisung pointed a finger at Chan, “ _you_ bumped into _him_.” Chan rolled his eyes, as if to say, _insignificant piece of information, Jisung, carry on_. “Secondly, why don’t you ask Jeongin? Or, like, I don’t know, Seungmin?”

Seungmin spoke up, “I know absolutely nothing about the dance crew other than that one time a girl got absolutely drunk and puked at another school’s party.”

Jisung rolled his eyes. “Useless. All of you, useless.”

“Because,” Chan started to explain, shoving another fry in his mouth and talking with his mouth full (which earned a _“Swallow your food first”_ from Seungmin), “you were the one who pointed out that boy staring at us, so I assume you would know his name as well, no?”

Jisung shook his head. “I’m also useless. Sorry, my guy. Just know that he was glaring at us like he wanted to vore us. Kinky, by the way.”

Jeongin was busy munching on his burger, but the second he looked up, he immediately spoke. (He also got a _“Swallow your food first”_ from Seungmin.) “If he was glaring at you, then it’s probably Lee Minho. He’s from the dance crew, right?” Jisung nodded. “Yeah, it’s probably him. He hates us with a passion, which is ironic since he shares a name with an actor.”

“It _is_ kind of ironic,” Jisung agreed.

Chan spoke while unwrapping his burger (to which Seungmin said, _“Please don’t talk with your mouth full again.”)_ “But why would he hate us? Last time I checked, the dance crew were pretty easy-going people.”

Jisung shook his head while making _‘ckckck’_ noises, closing his eyes to give the full effect—again, _drama king_. “Oh, you sweet, innocent, naïve child. You just don’t know the contents of their spam accounts on Instagram.”

“People still have spam accounts?” Chan asked in response. “I thought we moved on to Twitter privs.”

“It’s the _elite_ we’re talking about here, Chan,” Jisung replied. “People with _actual money_ and not Monopoly money. Twitter is peasant’s land.”

Chan simply nodded, as if he was agreeing, and continued eating his burger. He was about to say, _“I bet I’ll be able to make him un-hate us,”_ when he choked on his food after being back-hugged by a mysterious person. A mysterious person with a very deep voice that called out _“Channie!”_ and a smile that resembled an angel’s. To that, Chan jokingly said, “Oh my God, Changbin, get your boyfriend off of me.”

Felix pouted, furrowing his eyebrows. “He’s not my boyfriend!”

“ _Yet_ ,” Jeongin corrected. He simply shrugged when Felix sent him a ‘menacing’ glare (which Seungmin honestly thought just looked like a tiny child trying to look intimidating).

Minho snorted when he saw Chan, who had a bit of ketchup on the corner of his mouth. He mistakenly said out loud, “Wow, a theatre kid _and_ a messy eater? Pick a struggle.” Instead of horror washing over his face when he realised, though, he looked like he couldn’t care less. In fact, Seungmin noted that he looked extremely cocky.

Felix rolled his eyes, knowing what was going to happen. He quickly got off of Chan, who was wiping the ketchup off with the tissue in the paper bag, and looked over at Hyunjin, muttering a quick excuse that he needed someone to accompany him to the toilet. Hyunjin, who was _very_ tired of Minho hating the theatre kids (one of which he was interested in— _mind your business_ ) for no reason, obviously agreed.

As the two walked away, Jeongin commented, “Why were you staring at Chan’s lips, dude? That’s kinda gay.”

“Full homo hours?” Jisung joked.

Chan was trying to contain his laughter. His friends always knew exactly what to say to brighten up an awkward situation. “Ooh,” he taunted, looking at Minho, “you want to kiss me so bad. You want to kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid.”

Minho immediately blushed and stuttered, unable to string up a coherent response. Sure, he was the cockiest motherfucker alive, but at the same time, _this dude was kind of hot_. And intimidating. But mostly hot. He cursed himself for thinking that, considering his rivalry with the theatre kids, and admitting that this person—Chan—was hot would simply mean he was licking up his own spit. He didn’t know what to do, and so he retreated, a blushing mess, off to find where Felix and Hyunjin had escaped to.

And suddenly, Chan was completely sure he could make Minho un-hate the theatre club.

**Author's Note:**

> special thank you to my friend K who let me cry in front of him and ramble about how very self-indulgent this was. thank you to octobersparkle's mod who was so kind even though i am one hell of a deadliner, spoiler alert they're an angel confirmed?? how do i know? i said so. and thank you dear reader for giving my work a chance! <3


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